Revenge fantasy
by Paranoidgirl
Summary: VtM; Bloodlines story. Mercurio got a hold of LaCroix. And with the Blood Bond gone, this can only mean one thing: payback. Rated for violence and language.


So... this popped into my head. It's semi-wish fullfilment that warped into something else.

You can kinda see it as a sequel to my previous story 'One of those days', tough it's not needed as backup reading. All you need to know about that ditty is this:

LaCroix is a prick (Common fact) who makes Mercurio's life a living hell (A theory I have).

At the moment I just hope I finally got the hang of Mercurio's accent somewhat. Not to mention that, at best, I took a fair bit of liberty with the facts about a 'Blood Bond' and at worst completely mangled the concept. Eh, it was for the sake of narrative. I can live with that. Hopefully so can other people.

Anyway, enjoy the story.

* * *

I consider myself a nice guy.

Well, as nice a guy as you can be considering the work I'm doing and who I'm doing it for.

However, that's not to say I don't have my bouts of just being mad dog vicious when I'm pushed too far. Even as a vampire's lackey, I do have my limits on how I want to be treated.

And LaCroix crossed them. Hell, he's been crossing them for almost thirty years. Not much I could do 'bout it, being his Ghoul 'n all. I couldn't even inwardly seethe.

But now... now I finally could. I could finally hate him. I could finally give him payback.

"Ngh..." Came from in front of me. Sebastian LaCroix, former Prince of L.A. And my former Master, made the pathetic noise. Not that it was entirely unwarranted. I had him tied down in a chair, upper body naked and currently sporting a large amount of bruises where I went to town on him with a crowbar.

"You vampires sure can take a shit-ton of punishment." I told him, leaning casually against the back wall of the abandoned warehouse where I dragged him to. No one would disturb this little meeting.

"What..." My once-Master tried. "What is the meaning of this, Mercurio? Release me. At once." He demanded. As if he still had power over me. I simply sauntered over to him. "I said..."

"I heard ya. And you can kindly fuck off with that request. You French bastard." I hissed, once more hitting him across the face with the crowbar. Damn, it felt good to say that. Unsurprisingly, this pissed him off.

"You... How DARE YOU?" LaCroix shouted at me. "After all I did for you. I treated you well. Paid you for your services. THIS is the thanks I get! You insolent, little...!"

"Shut your face!" I yelled at him, taking a hold of his throat, savoring his look going from indignant anger to pure fear as my dear 'Master' realised just how boned he was. "Treated me well? I was nothing but a fucking toy to you! For thirty Goddamn years I had to put up with your shit, not even being able to hate you for what you did to me!" I savored the choked noises he made as I increased my grip, even if I wasn't able to kill him like this. "But now? With the Blood Bond no longer having a hold of me and your precious Sheriff not being around to protect you, you're all mine." I dropped the crowbar, still holding on to him as I dug into my pockets for something else. A knife. Just bludgeoning the French Bastard wouldn't be enough. A few gashes across the torso would be far more painful for him and far more satisfying for me. "And I'm gonna take my sweetass time." With that I placed the tip of the knife against LaCroix' chest, before slashing downward, extracting a pained noise. However, my grin, which had been plastered on my face for almost this entire exchange, faded as a small trail of blood started leaking down, making me feel a painfully familiar feeling...

Fuck...

That desire... that need for vampire blood that I probably would never get rid off... it started to get a hold of me. Even tough I've gotten my fix from my new Master mere days ago...  
I did not think this part trough.

A nervous laughter brought me back to reality somewhat, as LaCroix also seemed to realise what just happened.

"Irresistable, isn't it?" He said, both his voice and smile laced with barely hidden desperation. "Go on. Take a few sips. In the end, it's what you truly want."

"Shut up!" I shouted, lashing out with the knife again, gashing open his cheek. Bad idea as it showed there was an opening. LaCroix' smile became almost predatory. Despite being the one that was wounded and trapped, he was currently in charge, smelling blood.

"Don't delude yourself into thinking you're free from me. You never will be." He told me. "Your first Domitor is very much like your first love. Nothing will ever compare. No matter who you will sell yourself to in the future like some cheap whore, they will never taste as good as your first."  
"Shut up..." I repeated, but I could feel my resolve and hatred starting to waver.

No... No. No. No! NO!

I was finally rid of this. My mind had finally stopped ripping itself apart over LaCroix. But now those feelings came rushing back. I tried to fight it, gripping the knife I held so hard my knuckles turned white. However, soon my eyes were on the knife. More specifically, the red liquid dripping from it. It felt almost like a Siren's call as I raised it slowly, shakily bringing it to my mouth.  
"Yes... do it." LaCroix goaded me on. "This transgression will be forgiven, and things will be back to normal."

Back to normal. Back to being his servant. No, his toy. That was enough. This brought back the hatred in full force. Overpowering whatever desire I felt. Changing my grip on the knife and shifting my blazing eyes to LaCroix, I homed in.

"Go. To. HELL!" I roared, stabbing LaCroix straight in the chest. His smile faded, as he looked up to me in surprise. "I'll never be yours again." I softly told him, before wrenching the knife out and stabbing him again. And again. And again, right until he crumbled into dust, leaving me alone with an empty chair. I took a shuddering breath as my mind collected itself. Whatever feelings of desire and need I had for LaCroix finally fading away forever. Still shaking, I held my head, trying to stifle a chuckle. That failed and soon that chuckle devolved into giggling before I threw my head back, laughing in a way that would probably freak out a Malk if he saw me. Over... it was finally over. Looking up at the ceiling, smile still plastered on my face, I simply basked in the freedom I finally had...

Drops of water started to hit my face. Rain... The ceiling of the warehouse slowly faded, making place for a cloudy nightsky. With my vision fading back in, so did reality. LaCroix was dead, albeit not by my hands. But since I took some part in it, there was a bloodhunt on my head. The new kid just had to jump ship to the Anarchs... but I wasn't mad at him. He had a choice in the matter and took it. At least I managed to keep myself alive long enough for my time to run out and finally hate LaCroix. To at least have a fantasy where I got even with him. Figures moved into the night sky. Three vampires cornered me from where I sat, slumped down against a brick wall, beaten down.

"You are one stubborn motherfucker, you know that?" One told me. "Especially for an old guy." I didn't pay attention, just looking down at my aged body. And despite the fact that this was my end, I smiled. "What're you smiling for?"

"It's over..." I told him. Damn, even my voice sounded old. "It's finally over." This was answered by a familiar click I found it in myself to look up, straight into the barrel of a gun. Wouldn't be surprised if it was one of mine. Damn vampires liked a sense of irony.

"Those your last words?" The vampire asked me, as my smile turned devious. Like hell those were my last words.  
"Fuck your kind." I told him, or at least tried, as a gunshot cut both my sentence, as well as my life, short.

Good riddance.

* * *

Yeah, that was kind of a downer note to end on. But it was the only ending out of four that I wrote that left me even remotely satisfied.


End file.
